


My Hero

by honestgrins



Series: In a World [4]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, day four - all human, klarolineauweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8275096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestgrins/pseuds/honestgrins
Summary: Day 4 - All Human: Caroline's a writer in need of inspiration, and Kat's the agent who needs her to finish writing a book. She sends Caroline to her beach house for a month, not knowing her temporary neighbor would finagle his way into the book (or her author's heart).





	

Her knee bounced under the table, her fingers tapping nervously on her coffee mug as she waited for Katherine to process what she had just told her.

"What do you mean, you're stuck?"

"I mean," Caroline attempted to explain, "that I have a whole list of possible stories that I could pitch to the publisher, but I'm exactly zero percent inspired to actually write any of them. Kat, I'm stuck!"

The agent watched her suspiciously, the sharp gaze making Caroline feel like her skin should be peeling with the focus. "Okay," Katherine finally said. "How can I help?"

Shocked, Caroline wasn't sure she had an answer. Katherine Pierce was a cutthroat literary agent, infamous for getting results and refusing to put up with authors who couldn't produce works of her standard.

"Oh, stop with the surprise, Barbie. This is my job," Katherine snorted. "Even if I didn't think you were a great writer worth the trouble, there's still a contracted novel to complete a first draft in the next thirty days. I won't let you ruin my streak just because you lack inspiration. So what do you need? Alcohol? Drugs? A one-night stand?"

"What are you, my connect?"

"I'm your agent," Katherine answered blithely. "Tell me what it's going to take to jump-start your creative juices so you can crank out something useful for me to sell to the publisher next month."

Sighing, Caroline screwed her eyes shut. "I just, I need to focus and get something down on paper," she admitted. "I haven't written anything since…"

"Since your vampire series," Katherine finished, the picture becoming clear.

Wildly popular, the _Mystic Falls_ book series spawned an overly active fandom, which led to a television adaption and worldwide fame. Caroline Forbes couldn't do anything without a devoted following of _MF_ ers tracking her every opinion and thought on the universe she created.

With the last book installment finally behind her, Caroline had been so excited to build something new. If anything, it would be a nice change of pace to break the monotony of discussing high schoolers facing the supernatural. She would always be proud of her work, but it was time for her to move on; the pressure of another project without the cushion of invested fans, however, was getting to her.

"What if it's not as a good?" she asked, sounding terrified. "Worse, what if it's good, it just not good enough to justify ending _Mystic Falls_?"

"Oh, please," Katherine groaned. "Getting you to write that last book was an exercise in pulling teeth. You were done writing for the precious Eleanor and her stupid brother suitors. Just avoiding a love triangle should be enough to motivate you for a new story."

"I guess that's true," Caroline laughed, until she sobered. "It still doesn't tell me what that story should be."

Watching her client closely, Katherine seemed to come to a decision. "I have a beach house, up in Maine," she said. "Why don't you head up there for the month? It's isolated, kind of my safe place when I need to get away. Maybe that's what you need to focus."

Caroline set her coffee down on the table between them. "Wow, really?" Sure, she and her agent had become something like friends over their decade of working together, but Katherine had always been a very private person. "You've never even invited me over for dinner, and now you're giving me free rein of your beach house?"

"Well, if you don't want it…"

"I do!" Caroline wasn't about to pass up a chance to snoop, let alone a vacation in the middle of nowhere. Fame and attention were well and good, but they exhausted the hell out of her. She gratefully accepted the keys Katherine passed her.

"It's a private neighborhood, no one should bother you too much," she explained. "Well, except maybe Elijah."

Caroline froze, her sheriff mother's voice screaming in her head to demand more information before heading somewhere new, completely alone. "Who's Elijah?"

"My annoying neighbor who has no concept of fun," Katherine complained. "Apparently playing the stereo in my own house is disruptive to his peace and quiet."

Relaxing a bit, Caroline nodded. "So, I'll just keep the music down."

Katherine pinned her with mischievous glare. "I demand you drink tequila and party after every breakthrough in your writing," she ordered. "Not only would it be a good reward system for you, it would also irritate the hell out of his pompous ass."

Laughing, Caroline nodded. "Deal."

* * *

Caroline was bored out of her mind.

The beach house was great for the first day, the mere silence enough to help Caroline plan a writing schedule. Day two, she listed concepts and character traits to explore. Day three, she was supposed to have an idea to start working from.

It was day three, and she was still stuck. Instead, she wasted hours on fanmail, her blog, and generally dicking around on the Internet. Caroline Forbes did not waste time. Frustrated and irritable, she needed an outlet.

Turning to the welcome basket Katherine had sent with her, Caroline immediately grabbed the tequila and limes. Margaritas helped her come up with the _Mystic Falls_ series in the first place; surely, they would help again. She also remembered Kat's rule about celebrating breakthroughs, and she figured loosening up for the breakthrough was a simple enough exception. Firing up the stereo, Caroline let the Spice Girls blare through the beach house as she set about making her drink.

She danced and danced, using the silliness to work out all of her excess energy built up from her solitude. Caroline didn't think twice about prancing around a strange house in little more than underwear and a tank top, until a booming knock sounded from the back porch. Startled, she quickly peeked around the corner to see a strange man through the glass door.

Caroline considered ignoring him, but she wasn't fast enough to duck his gaze in return. Ooh, he was pretty. "Hello," he called in a British accent.

Damn her southern pageant queen title. He was polite, and Caroline's manners were too ingrained to subvert. "Just a second," she yelled back. Realizing she would have to dart up the stairs in full view of this stranger, though, she needed another plan. "Can you turn around or something?"

"Pardon?"

"I'm not exactly decent here," she admitted. "Seriously, just turn around and count to thirty. Please?"

He seemed to be laughing, but Caroline watched as he turned around as requested. "Thank you," she called, sprinting up the stairs to pull on the first clothing she could find. If it happened to be a pretty sundress, she would just chalk it up to making a good impression.

"Sorry about that," she announced on her way back down the stairs. "Dancing in your underwear is super fun until someone's there to witness it."

"I'll have to take your word for it, love," the stranger said.

His smirk was devilish to say the least, with dimples to boot. Caroline was a bit starstruck until she realized who the man must be. "Oh, is the music too loud? Katherine warned me you were a bit of a stickler on the noise issue."

He looked confused. "Who is Katherine?"

"She's the owner of this house," Caroline explained, just as bemused. "I'm sorry, I thought you were the neighbor she mentioned. Elijah?"

Chuckling, the man shook his head. "That would be my brother, who's been kind enough to lend me his vacation home," he answered. "I'm Klaus."

"Caroline," she replied with a small wave. "What can I do for you then, Klaus?"

"This is a bit awkward, but I rather hoped you had a bottle of red wine you wouldn't mind parting with," he said, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. "I didn't think to grab any from the grocery, and I need it for dinner."

She smiled; he was cute when he was bashful. "I'm already two margaritas in, so I think I can go without the red wine for tonight," she said. The alcohol had her feeling flirty, and the way he tracked the bounce of her skirt as she went to grab a bottle from Kat's basket was the boost of confidence she needed to act on that feeling. Before she handed it to him, she pulled the bottle just out of his reach. "What do I get out of this deal?"

Stepping closer to lean against the threshold, Klaus ran a finger along his bottom lip. "That's a fair question," he said, voice low and alluring. "I could offer you the best beef stroganoff you'll ever taste."

"I guess that will do," she deigned in a mock suffering tone.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?" he asked more formally. "I hate to interrupt your night of dancing in your underwear, but it appears I already have."

Caroline shrewdly considered him as she mulled the invitation. Despite her blatant flirting, she knew better than to trust strangers so easily. "If I come over, I'd like to take a photo of your driver's license to send to my sheriff mother in case I go missing."

"I promise, I'm not a serial killer," he joked, though he did reach for his wallet. Handing over his ID, Klaus seemed amused as she really snapped a picture of it with her phone.

"You think protecting myself is funny," she accused, eyebrow raised.

But he just shook his head amiably. "Impressive," he clarified. "I should share that trick with my sister."

Snorting, Caroline passed back the license and followed him out the door. "She probably has similar tricks with her girlfriends, but I'm all for sharing safety tips."

They walked in a comfortable silence down the beach, their houses a mere stone's throw apart. Klaus let himself in, holding the door so Caroline could follow.

"Wow," she said, taking in the more traditional architecture. "This place is amazing. Has your brother had it for long?"

"A few years, I think," Klaus shrugged. "Elijah works on Wall Street, and apparently the Hamptons were too crowded for his tastes. He insisted on a quieter vacation home for when he needed to get away."

Caroline snickered. "I guess that's why he's so strict on the noise level. Katherine deliberately told me to piss him off if I could." He led her to the kitchen, where a number of pots and pans were simmering away on the stove. "It smells great in here," she said, impressed. "Do you cook a lot?"

Smirking, Klaus stirred the pans he had left unsupervised. "Does a Michelin star count?" With a flourish, he uncorked the red wine and poured it into the meat pan. "I'm a chef," he clarified at Caroline's look of confusion.

"I thought Michelin stars went to restaurants, not the chefs," she snarked. Caroline did not appreciate the condescension in his tone; a successful author can afford a fancy dinner or two. Pulling herself onto a stool at the kitchen island, she arched an eyebrow in challenge.

"Point taken," Klaus answered, his smile falling. He almost seemed sad, which hadn't been Caroline's intention. "The restaurant got that star because of me, however."

Nodding, Caroline sensed there was more to the story. She looked around the house dramatically. "Funny, this doesn't look like a Michelin-rated restaurant."

Klaus's lips ticked up again. "I needed to get away for a while," he admitted, his back to her as he focused on the food. "An extended vacation, if you will."

"My agent declared the same for me," Caroline offered. She figured a little honesty deserved some in return. "I have a month to take advantage of her beach house to write a novel."

"You're a writer?"

"Can you be a writer if you're not actually writing anything?" Klaus dropped a glass of that red wine in front of her, making her smile. "I've got the worst writer's block, and I have no idea what story I want to tell for my next book."

Klaus's smiled in sympathy. "As a chef, I'm subject to any number of factors that affect my decision making. Availability of ingredients, trends, budget considerations. I can't imagine working when there's no limit but my imagination."

Rolling her eyes, Caroline took a swig of wine. "That's my problem," she explained. "I can write about anything, anything! My publisher really doesn't care because my name in the cover is enough to sell books." At Klaus's poorly hidden chuckle, she blushed. "Okay, that sounds really conceited and like a lack of an actual problem. Still, I haven't found the right inspiration."

"Inspiration is important," Klaus agreed. "Maybe you just need a mindless distraction, get your brain to shut off for a night."

Caroline bit her lip; now they were getting somewhere. "And just what are you suggesting?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Klaus's eyes nearly glowed with dark promise. "I'm not one to put out on a first date, love," he finally said, though Caroline had a feeling that wasn't necessarily true. "I was merely wondering if you would like to chop the vegetables for the salad."

He nodded to the veggie baskets sitting in the sink, and Caroline didn't bother to hold back a scoff. She could play this game, sashaying over to the sink to begin her chore. "I always thought chefs were more controlling over their dominion," she mused. "Are you sure you want a nonprofessional handling such an important task?"

"If you're not up for it…"

Snatching the knife from the counter before he could move it away from her, Caroline was the perfect picture of offense. "You're on, buddy."

* * *

Caroline had never had fun cooking before. She was a stress baker, sure, but that required focus and exact measurements. Cooking with Klaus was pure instinct and sensuality. Even the sorbet set in front of her wasn't enough to cool her down after the heady experience.

If Klaus's heated stare was any indication, Caroline was sure he felt the same way. "For someone who doesn't put out on the first date," she whispered in a husky voice, "you're certainly sending me the bedroom eyes."

"I can't help it," he answered charmingly. "You're beautiful."

She rolled her eyes, unable to hide her pleased smile as she spooned the last of the sorbet into her mouth. "On that note, I should probably head back. Thank you for the delicious dinner."

Standing, Klaus followed her to the door, seemingly confused. "I was kidding before, and you don't have to leave," he insisted, letting his hand graze her arm.

"Oh, but I do," she said. Her fingers itched to write, and if she stayed… Well, she wouldn't be writing. When Klaus pouted, though, she couldn't resist leaning up to kiss him. Lightly nipping his bottom lip, Caroline had to force herself to pull away before he could deepen their embrace. "Nope, that seems like a perfect way to end the night."

Klaus sighed, leaning his head against her shoulder. "You're the writer," he said. "I suppose you know your way around perfect endings."

Biting her lip, Caroline smiled brightly. "With the right inspiration," she teased. A burst of happiness had her pressing another kiss to his lips. "Let's just say there's something to anticipation that really stokes my creativity."

Before he could respond, she twirled around and left for Kat's beach house. She glanced back to Klaus, throwing a little more sway into her hips as he watched her go. Forget tequila as a reward for breakthroughs; a little romance of her own might be just what she needed.

* * *

She couldn't sleep. Her hand was cramped, but she refused to stop writing. Pen flying across her notebook, Caroline scrambled to get all of her ideas down on paper.

Throughout dinner, Klaus had shared a bit of his story. A hotshot chef in New York, he apparently escaped to his brother's beach house when a disagreement flamed up between him and the restaurant's owner. He was out of a job and had a reputation for being difficult to work with, basically blackballing him from the industry until he could open his own restaurant.

The story wrote itself, though Caroline fought very hard to change as much as she could to make it her own. She did her best to give the main character a not-Klaus nuance, mostly because she didn't want to build up her own version of him in her head. He deserved better than that, to be faced with her wildly uninformed expectations of his character. She dealt with that all the time as the writer of _Mystic Falls_ , and she didn't want to put the same burden on his shoulders.

Worse, she didn't want to break her own heart by falling for a character of her own creation. Caroline had to remember Klaus was a real person with real feelings. She considered the creepy ramifications of writing about a guy she was interested in, but the words just kept coming and she was helpless to do anything but to keep writing.

In the middle of one such writing jag, a knock at the door startled her from the couch. Straightening her back from being bent over her third notebook, she looked up to see Klaus holding a bottle of red wine on the porch. She glanced toward the clock, surprised to realize it was already mid-morning. Despite her desire to continue her work, Caroline decided a break wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"Hey," she greeted, stretching a bit as she opened the door.

"You look..." Klaus trailed off, as though looking for the right words. "Busy."

Her hand flew to her hair, which was a mussy version of the braid she wore the night before. "Yeah," she mumbled self-consciously. "Like I said, all I needed was a little inspiration. I've been writing all night."

Looking down, Caroline followed Klaus's gaze to her hand still clutching the pen. He set the wine bottle down to take her hand in both of his. The warmth alone helped her to relax, but he lightly massaged her tense muscles. "It feels painful," he noted quietly, just meeting her eyes through his lashes.

With a light smile, she brought her other hand to trace scars and callouses on his. "I would think a chef would understand suffering for your art," she retorted.

Klaus smiled in return, but he dropped both their hands to give her the wine. "To replace what I borrowed yesterday," he explained.

"Thank you. Though I'm surprised you didn't think to pick any up with your grocery shopping, now that I know it's kind of your job." Caroline nodded for him to follow her inside.

"Elijah's a wine snob," Klaus shrugged. "I assumed he would have a decent stock, even in a beach house."

"And he doesn't?"

"Oh, he does," Klaus snorted. "He just neglected to leave me a key to his liquor cabinet. In addition to being a snob, my brother's a selfish git."

"Poor baby," Caroline pouted mockingly, shaking her head.

Struck by the sight, Klaus slowly pulled her by her waist so he could kiss her pout. "I think I'll manage," he whispered against her lips. Taking a final peck, he pulled back. "I always seem to be interrupting you, but would you like to go for a walk? I've only been here for a day or so, and I haven't explored the beach."

In her head, Caroline weighed the pros and cons. She could get back to writing, but she made plenty of progress through the night to catch up to her scheduled plan. Plus, she'd probably find a little more inspiration along the way if Klaus kept up this flirty business. Damn, he was cute. "I could probably be convinced," she said, pulling him in for another kiss.

* * *

It was done.

Three weeks of writing, flirting, and relaxation, and she was done. She ran over to find Klaus as soon as she closed the document, wrapping him in a boisterous hug when he opened the door and screaming, "It's done!"

"It's just a rough draft," she explained in a rush, "but still. I've finally written something without teenage angst and vampire euphemisms."

"Congratulations, love," he said, keeping his arms around her waist. "Do I finally get to read any of it?"

Her breath hitched in her throat; Caroline had never gotten around to describing the book...or the fact that it's based on his own story. Not only was she completely unsure how he would take it, but really, she just wanted to jump his bones.

In true Caroline Forbes fashion, she let herself overthink this fling with Klaus. The anticipation of it all had helped with her inspiration to write, but actively putting off sex was not supposed to be this difficult. Honestly, she didn't even intend to do it. Every day was a new exercise in restraint as she got to know Klaus, and their kisses grew deeper - both physically and emotionally. Now that her draft was finished, though, maybe she could finally give into temptation?

"Well," she began, tentative. As much as she wanted to sleep with him, and she did, Caroline wouldn't feel right unless he knew everything. "In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I actually wrote about a professional chef." When he tensed up, she hurried to explain. "You were so descriptive of the New York culinary scene, and my mind just kind of rolled from there. Please don't be mad."

Klaus met her eyes seriously, as though he were looking for something. All she felt was worry, maybe a touch of fear that she wasn't worth all the trouble he went to in wooing her. "You didn't really write about me, did you?"

"Not exactly," Caroline hedged. "I did base the main character off your story, but she's nothing like you, I swear."

Dropping his head to her shoulder, Klaus let his lips drag over her neck. "Sweetheart, I- I don't know if I'm comfortable with this."

Caroline bit her lip in apprehension. "That's why I wanted to tell you before, well," she hesitated. "Klaus, I've enjoyed our time together, so much. I didn't want to ruin it."

"Then why write about me?" he challenged, squeezing her hips. "To serve your own career?"

The bitterness in his voice was new, taking Caroline by surprise. "Klaus-"

"Did you never wonder why I fought with the owner? Why my career essentially ended? Because I refused to listen to him. Marcel warned me to never date a food journalist, that it would just burn me in the end."

Confused, Caroline tried to make sense of the new information. "What does th-"

"Genevieve was angry with me for something, wanted to hurt me," he explained, barely holding onto his own anger. "Suddenly, the restaurant is the target of a nasty series of articles, and I'm out of a job. Marcel promised it was only temporary, but then I couldn't find work anywhere else."

"That's not what I'm doing," Caroline protested, gripping his shirt when he tried to turn away. "Klaus, I wanted to tell your story to find your happy ending. I-"

"Used me," Klaus finished, throwing her hands off him. She tried not to think how she might have ended her sentence, as the conversation clearly wasn't going to end well. "You used my personal information to fuel your own desires, and I can't- I have to go."

"What?" Caroline was breathless, her heart aching in her chest at his abrupt description of their relationship. "Klaus, no."

He was picking up his keys and striding toward the front door, and Caroline felt a sudden need to keep him there. She reached for his hand, only to have it ripped from hers. "Please see yourself out," he said coldly. With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving her alone and near tears.

A car started outside, and Caroline retreated to Kat's beach house. Klaus would be back, and she would have a chance to explain her side, show him the story to prove it wasn't like he thought.

Until then, all she could do was wait and cry.

* * *

He didn't come back.

After two whole days of crying on the couch and waiting for a sign of his return, Caroline had to accept that Klaus had no intention of returning. He was done.

With a little less than a week to go before Kat's deadline, Caroline wasn't surprised to find her agent shaking her awake from her restless sleep. "What the hell happened to you?"

Caroline let out a small cry, her voice little more than a croak. When no words came, Katherine Pierce actually looked uncomfortable. "There, there," she attempted to comfort, awkwardly reaching out to pat the blonde's back. "Do you have a draft for me?"

Kat had to bully her into a shower, then into an explanation. Caroline tried not to cry again as she talked about Klaus and his reaction, especially since all Katherine cared about was the work in question. "Let me see," she ordered, holding out her hand.

Cueing the document up on her iPad, Caroline hesitated in handing it over. "Maybe this is a sign I shouldn't publish it," she said.

"Unless you can write another book in four days, you're stuck, Barbie," Kat answered, though not unsympathetic. "If he's gone anyway, you might as well make the loss worth it."

She swallowed tightly, but Caroline nodded. She handed over the iPad, giving Katherine a few minutes to work through the highlighted passages she marked as some of the book's key points.

"Caroline," she finally said, sounding shocked. "This is-"

"I know." Caroline's voice was small.

She knew what a best-seller felt like when she wrote one. Unfortunately, the taste was bittersweet when she remembered what it cost her.

* * *

_**one year later…** _

Another day, another book signing.

Caroline sighed, plastering her pageant queen smile for yet another fan of _Mystic Falls_ who jumped at the chance to ask her in person about Eleanor's fate. Her new book, _Dominion_ , was supposed to be the topic of the day, but Caroline knew better than to snap at a reader.

Besides, _Dominion_ was doing just fine because of fans like that one. Kat was already fielding studio calls to turn it into a movie, the lack of a romantic storyline very trendy in the main character's singular pursuit of culinary success. Of everything she'd written, Caroline really wanted to be proud of _Dominion_.

But it hurt. She was doing exactly what Klaus had accused her of, profiting from his pain. She had tried to speak with him, even going so far as to asking Kat to deal with Elijah for a current address. None of it worked, though. Elijah delivered his message loud and clear: Klaus wanted nothing to do with her.

So Caroline gave up, and she continued with the fourth, fifth and sixth drafts of _Dominion_. It was officially released last month, and she was on her last New York signing before she needed to be back on the road for the book tour. Wistfully, she wondered if Klaus had read it.

A familiar voice broke her focus, the British accent washing over her. "I'm sure this is quite personal, but I wondered about your dedication," she asked. Caroline looked up in shock. "Was Natalie based on a real person?"

Eyes wide, Caroline processed the question as she took in Klaus's expression. Curious readers had asked before, but never so bluntly. He seemed almost unsure as he stood across the table from her.

She gingerly opened the book he handed her to the author's dedication, lightly tracing the letters with her finger: _"I'm sorry. An author has no business loving her hero."_

"I hurt someone I cared for in the process of writing this book," Caroline whispered. "Not all stories are ours to tell."

Klaus shrugged, though he didn't take his eyes from her. "Some stories need to be retold with a happy ending," he countered.

Her heart in her throat, Caroline forced herself to speak. "Did you like the book?"

"Natalie was a bit of a prat," he admitted, rubbing his neck. "She let her own fears hold her back from some great opportunities."

"It wasn't all her," Caroline defended, though she knew they weren't talking about her character anymore. "Klaus, I'm so sorry."

"I know," he said softly. Shuffling a bit, he stuck his hands in his pockets. "This is a bit awkward, but do you have a bottle of red wine you wouldn't mind sharing?"

Biting her lip, Caroline tried not to get her hopes up at the callback to their first meeting. "Oh? I think I'm fresh out. What's the occasion?"

"You see, I made a mistake a while ago, and I have no idea how to fix it," he said, leaning forward. "I fell in love with this beautiful woman, and I let my fears hold me back from what might have been the greatest opportunity of my life."

"Sounds familiar," Caroline teased, though she was still scared where this was headed. "I let myself lose a great guy because I was too scared just to be honest with him."

Klaus hummed, reaching out to tuck a blonde curl behind her ear. "It sounds like we could use that bottle of wine," he said. "I could take you back to my kitchen, make you the best beef stroganoff you'll ever taste."

"Your kitchen?" Caroline asked breathlessly. She might have had a Google alert on his name those first few months, but there was nothing about a new restaurant.

He shrugged. "It's not entirely mine, and it's nowhere near Michelin-rated, but it's a start," he explained. "Care to join me for dinner?"

Fighting back a relieved smile, Caroline stubbornly stuck out her hand. "If you expect me to go anywhere with you, I'm going to need a photo of your driver's license."

Klaus grabbed her hand, chuckling, and pulled her to her feet for the fairy-tale, swoon-worthy kiss of her dreams.

Even she couldn't make this up.

"My hero," she whispered against his lips before kissing him again.


End file.
